After a long, steaming bath, I lay on my mother's bed, staring up at the ceiling as the weight of the day's revelations slowly settled around me. So much had happened in just a few hours—so much I still couldn't quite grasp.
I reached for my phone and checked for a signal. Relief washed over me when I saw the bars blinking at the top of the screen. I opened my inbox to find a string of unread messages from Jane. A sharp pang of sadness hit me—this would be the last time I spoke to her through words on a screen. But beneath that sadness was a quieter relief. She didn't deserve to be dragged into this chaos. I wouldn't be selfish enough to let her.
My fingers hovered over the keyboard before I began to type.
Hi Jane,
Sorry for the sudden notice, but I'm resigning from my position. I don't know when I'll be back.
I'm really sorry.
I'll fill you in as soon as this all settles down.
You've been the kindest, truest friend I've ever had. Please, always be safe.
See you as soon as I can.
I hit send, then immediately powered off my phone, afraid of the response I might receive—or worse, the silence that might follow.
I wasn't ready for goodbyes. Not yet.
And now… I braced myself for whatever would come next.
A sudden knock came at the door. Cordelia peeked inside, her voice gentle but firm. "Dinner's ready. I know it's late, but you have to eat. We all need to eat."
I stood slowly, my stomach growling loudly in protest. It was well past ten at night, and I hadn't eaten since lunch. The hunger gnawed at me more sharply now.
"I made your mother's favorite," Cordelia said as she led me to the table—fried rice and honey-glazed chicken. Our favorite dishes. Not just because they were hers, but because over time, they had become mine too.
The aroma filled the room, rich and comforting.
"It smells wonderful," I said, settling into my seat.
Cordelia smiled softly, and together, we began our late dinner, the quiet between us filled only by the clink of forks and the warmth of shared memories.
"Why is all of this happening?" I asked, my voice barely steady.
Cordelia paused mid-bite, swallowing a spoonful of rice before looking at me with a soft, knowing smile. "As I said earlier, it all began because of your mother—and your father."
I dropped my spoon with exaggerated shock.
"My dad? Didn't he diein a car crash?"
I bent down to retrieve the fallen spoon, but Cordelia stepped forward, handing me another one without missing a beat.
"He didn't die in a car crash. He's still alive."
I nearly choked on the rice, the words catching in my throat. A cough escaped me, and I barely managed to keep from inhaling food the wrong way.
"Wait, what? My dad is still alive? How? Where is he now?"
Cordelia handed me a glass of water, which I gulped down quickly.
"Your father is a white wizard," she said firmly.
The shock hit me like a punch to the gut. A white wizard? I was being hunted by a white witch, and now I was told my father was one of them? An enemy?
"So… my mother fell in love with an enemy," I whispered, incredulous. "Like some kind of forbidden love story straight out of legends or a fiction book?"
Cordelia sighed deeply, setting her utensils aside as if the meal no longer held any interest.
"I know you're confused," she said gently. "Yes, your mother's love was forbidden. But believe me when I say, I've met your father. He was kind and gentle—nothing like the white witches chasing you now."
She began to explain the story—the love that had blossomed between my parents, complicated and dangerous, but real.
"I've told you before—Gen never liked magic," Cordelia began, her voice tinged with a mix of regret and fondness. "Because of that, she often sneaked out beyond the boundaries of the Covenry. It was dangerous—she was born and raised here, and I didn't even know she was slipping away. I never taught her how to survive outside."
I set my utensils down, fully focused on her words.
"She met Rufus at a bookstore just outside the Covenry's entrance. I'll take you there sometime. And you know your mother—she loved reading. I hope that hasn't changed." She smiled gently, and I returned it, grateful for the reminder that some things remained constant.
"Even though your mother didn't love magic, it came to her naturally. In fact, she was incredibly skilled. She mastered the shield spell at a very young age—the one that masks your body temperature, hiding your identity as a witch." The very same spell Cordelia had used earlier when the white witch came to the house.
"She was only nineteen when she first met your father. One time, when she sneaked out, she forgot to cast the shield spell and came face to face with Rufus at the entrance to the Covenry. There was a heat prickling across their skin, and later she learned he wasn't just any wizard—he was a white wizard."
I couldn't wrap my head around it—both of my parents, born with magic. All this time, I had believed in something entirely different. I thought my father had never known the truth about us. I believed my mother had kept it from him, and maybe, just maybe, his early death was fate's way of punishing her. A curse for loving a witch.
Cordelia's voice pulled me from my thoughts. "When I first met him, I knew immediately—Rufus was a white wizard. They carry a distinct scent, something in their magic that lingers in the air. And you have it too, though fainter. That's why Alice is so wary of you. You share their blood. You may not be one of them, but their magic runs in your veins."
She paused, then added with a note of gravity, "They didn't know you existed. Not until your mother returned here."
Cordelia stood and began clearing her dishes. I followed her lead, gathering my own and joining her at the sink. Side by side, we washed the plates in silence for a while, the water running quietly between us.
Then she continued, her voice softer now, almost wistful.
"When the Coven discovered your mother's relationship with Rufus, she was shunned. Publicly. Permanently. It wasn't long before they voted—unanimously—to exile her from the Covenry. All because she chose to marry him."
I glanced at her, noticing the tightness around her mouth, the way her hands moved a little slower over the dishes.
"And because I gave them my blessing," she added, nearly a whisper. "Because I stood by her… I lost everything too. I was meant to become High Witch, but the Coven turned their backs on me. My loyalty to Gen made me an outcast."
She blinked quickly, her eyes glistening but refusing to let a single tear fall.
In that moment, I felt the ache between us—hers for the daughter she lost, and mine for the mother I barely had time to know. Grief passed silently through the space between us, as steady and sacred as the water running over our hands.
"Where is Father now?" I finally dared to ask.
She hesitated, as if weighing whether to reveal the truth I sought.
"He's imprisoned in their castle," Cordelia said softly. "Held captive for loving your mother. Nearly twenty years now. That much I learned only recently, when your mother returned here. She was locked in battle with the White Witches the moment she was exiled."
Tears welled in Cordelia's eyes, spilling over despite her efforts to hold them back.
"Perhaps that's why your mother told you she was dead—she wanted to shield you from this chaos. To protect you from the danger, while she fought to save your father."
We stood quietly in front of the sink, the silence thick and heavy between us.
"What does Father look like?" The question slipped before I could stop it.
A faint smile touched her lips. "He looks nothing like the other white wizards. His eyes… they were ordinary. Brown. Just like yours."
I struggled to grasp it all. "I still can't believe Mom didn't die ten years ago. And Dad… he's still alive. I don't know what to feel."
Cordelia patted her damp hands on the towel by the sink. When they were dry, she reached out and gently patted my back. "It's alright. Let it sink in. Rest now. We'll talk more tomorrow, and the days after. We'll take it slow."
I smiled at her — it was exactly what I needed.
Later, I slipped quietly into my mother's room and closed the door behind me. For a moment, I glanced once more around the quiet space.
"Mom, wherever you are… know that I miss you, and I love you."
Then, I lay down on the bed, the weight of it all settled over me.